It's Thursday and here's a new shot! This is for a friend of mine who reads my fictions, she wanted the ending and I absolutely hated how this scene turned out so I decided to write this. Thank you so much for your reviews, I love reading them, I hope you'll enjoy
A man who isn't president has options. A man who isn't president can divorce his wife. A man who isn't president can have a life, the life he wants; the life he's always wanted, with the woman he loves.
He kissed her feverishly, with such passion she felt like she would faint, he was pouring his whole self into kissing her; it felt like their first and last kiss. She could feel his hands roaming her whole body and it felt good. She was a little hesitant at first, was more than well aware she was kissing the POTUS in the Oval under the security cameras. As dangerous and reckless the moment was – because well anyone could open that door at any given time – it should have scared the crap out of her thinking about what people could be saying behind her back; the president's mistress, the home wrecking whore, the presidential slut, all she worked so hard and tirelessly for could just crumble, she could already hear people's speculations, calling all the favors she could have gotten out of her relationship with Fitz. Yet, she couldn't care less; she didn't give it a damn.
She was in his arms and nothing else mattered. In a matter of seconds, she gave in and began kissing him back with equal love, passion; she was burning under her skin for him; her hands found their way in his hair – which she absolutely loved – while the other was gripping his side as if she was scared he might run away. Against her better judgment, she let him lay her on one of the sofas letting him hover her, the air-filled with sexual tension; all you could see in their eyes was pure lust, he was about to take her right there, it didn't matter if someone opened the door or if they were too loud, but then her phone rang and as much as he would like her to just ignore it, she couldn't. Her phone ringing was what she needed to come back to her senses, saving her from her blinding desire. After giving him a quick kiss, she made her way out of the office.
She had a hard time containing her over joy. As she was frantically walking she came across a mirror, what she saw stunned her, she couldn't be the woman reflected, that was not Olivia Pope, it wasn't the strong-headed independent fearless woman and First D.C. fixer she was known to be, no. The person she was facing was glowing, beaming even; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide open and shining, you could she love, passion and adoration through them, her lipstick was smudged , ruined, her lips bright red and swollen; what had her dumbfounded most was the huge smile she couldn't take off, as if it was there to stay. She looked like a woman in love.
Covering her mouth with her hand, she resumed her journey, smiling wider until she found a furious seemingly resigned Cyrus sitting on a bench in the hallway, she still had that feeling she always got whenever he came to lecture her about ruining a married man's job, family and legacy, everything he spent his life working hard for. It wasn't new for her being assembled to a brainless lover who couldn't see what mess she was creating; she lost count of how many times an infuriated Cyrus came to her to convince her to break things off with Fitz but today she wasn't having it.
Her heart ached with pain in preparation for what she was going to hear and –possibly- say, she saw the pain coming, she could feel it, she knew if she didn't step up for her couple, for her love, for her happiness, for the man she loved above all, she would sink again in her misery. Ironically though, it was Cyrus who brought her back in; she had managed to stay away from everything for a year, it was the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life, she managed once but she couldn't stomach having to do it again, she didn't have the strength to besides, he –Fitz- would never forgive her letting him down once again.
She was just starting to walk backwards in an attempt to avoid him when he raised his head towards her. All she could see in his eyes was disappointment, and it hurt her because yes, even if she wouldn't admit it, his opinion, what he thought of her mattered a lot, he was her mentor and as much as she knew he was extremely disappointed – he expected her to be the best, the strongest, the most brilliant and accomplished woman – but she didn't care what anyone could think of her, of her choices anymore, she was the one living with the consequences; she should at least be the one to make the decisions freely and pressure free; but that, that was out of question when you knew Cyrus Rutherford Beene the way she knew him.
He was a monster, literally a political monster and both power hunger and thirsty you could basically feed him powerful positions until he died. He would die a happy man. As much as she tried to fool herself, the last couple months she spent strategizing with him and letting him interfere in her love life she had been everything but happy; she only knew desperation and raw pain. Plus, she always ended up fighting over it with Fitz when he finally decided he could no longer go on without hearing the sound of her voice. She was so done with that life, she wanted a shot to happiness and if that audio tape threat taught her one thing it was to live her life the way she wanted; either way she would be portrayed as the woman who shattered a family, a supposedly happy family.
"You know," he began "my one and only dream as a kid was to be the leader, the commander-in-chief, the president of this great nation, maybe it was because my father since I was born always fed me long talks about leaving my print in history, changing the world, making things better, greater even. When I was fifteen, guess who joined the lecture, my mother. She was insisting on everything my father told me, groomed me for. But when I turned eighteen I realized this dream was vowed to failure, it would never happen, I would never be able to fulfill my parents' dream and guess why. Because I'm fucking gay. I don't love women, I love men, I love James, I married James, I had a baby with him, with a man," he paused only to even his breath "This country, it doesn't forgive, it doesn't change, when you're gay, even if you have the best intentions, the best plans, the talent, the charisma, the brain, the education, everything to be President, you can't because people will never vote for you, you won't even stand a chance to become anything. Your political career is dead way before it even started."
Seeing her just standing there, not uttering a single word, he pursued, "when I met Fitz, when he asked me to be his campaign manager, I didn't even think twice about it, I believed it was some miracle, a golden opportunity, I finally stood a chance to at least be in the shadows of a President and that was better than nothing and when I see him now willing to throw it away; he wants to admit, to tell the whole word the truth, if you think it would benefit you, then let me tell you this, let be break the bubble for you because it won't. People are judgmental, they don't look any further than what you give them to see and family values matter to them, how do you think people will look at you once it's out? Huh? If you think they'll show compassion you're a fool. He can let us fix it, he can lie, his freaking wife is willing to stand by his side and hold his hand to save his presidency but he won't collaborate. You have to do something Liv, you have to."
"Why would I to that, Cyrus? Doesn't he deserve a chance to happiness, don't I deserve a chance to happiness?" she finally said.
"Olivia, some men are born to be happy, others are born to be great. Fitz and you are part of the latter; you'll never feel half as complete being happy as you are being great. Believe me." He said forcefully, desperately trying to convince her as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and he swiftly swept them with the back of his hand.
"Fine, I'll talk him into this," she replied and turned her heels before he could have a chance to exhale the deep breath he was holding.
"Mother of god, finally." He muttered falling back into the bench.
Olivia quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket. As Cyrus's speech sank within her, only one thing really caught her attention. When I see him now willing to throw it away; he wants to admit, to tell the whole word the truth. It kept playing in her mind, racing through it. The man, the president wanted without even blinking give up everything he spent his life working his ass off to accomplish just to be with her, no one on earth would give up as much for the woman they pretended to love. And that was the huge difference, Fitz wasn't pretending, he told her repeatedly if he couldn't have her then nothing was worth it. If Cyrus could see how little Fitz cared about his presidency if she was out of his reach than she was left with no doubt about his love for her.
"Huck, I need you to personally ensure no one would find a thing about me, about what my life was really like and Fitz's then I need you to gather everyone and start digging for dirt on Mellie I might need it."
"Consider it handled," was the only thing the other end said before hanging up.
Opening the door of the oval, she rushed back into his arms, ignoring his quizzical face, kissed him with all she had before stepping away from him leaving him clueless.
"Mellie and Cyrus are soon going to be in cahoots to take us down, destroy us, at least when he realizes I won't follow his plans so listen to me carefully we don't have much time, do you still have the divorce papers you filed?" when he nodded she continued, "perfect. My team is working on finding dirt on Mellie you will need it when and if she starts threatening to destroy you, I have some on Cyrus, some stuff he doesn't even know I have so it works in out favor, you'll divorce Mellie and give her something to keep her busy for the rest of your presidency, something that will keep her permanently anywhere near Santa Barbara, or the farthest from D.C.. In a year and half, when your first term is over you'll choose whether to run again or not, and don't worry I'll wait for you as long as you need. When you're done, after your divorce is made public, we'll start conveniently dating publicly so that people think we're gradually falling in love, we'll leak photos, rumors so that we can control the narrative and prevent fallouts, then we'll get married, move to Vermont, have kids and-"
"I'll be the mayor, you'll make jam," he finished for her dreamily.
"You'll be the mayor, I'll make jam. We'll finally get our shot to a happy ending." She confirms.
